


First Date Gays

by kabrox18, locusdesperatus



Series: IMBD [3]
Category: Crysis Series (Video Games), Red vs. Blue
Genre: IMBD AU, Multi, alcatraz is vulgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabrox18/pseuds/kabrox18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: just a trio of losers and their first date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't technically write this section of the IMBD AU, but thanks to how ao3's series works, I have to mark my buddy as co-author instead of the actual author.  
> all credit goes to him for this.

Doyle sighed, glancing in the mirror. He had dirt smeared across his face and his hair was sticking up in every direction. His shirt was crooked and the knees of his pants were nearly worn through. He'd just gotten home from his little flower shop, and needed to get ready for his date. He stripped, throwing his clothes into his laundry hamper. He checked the clock, clicking his tongue before hopping into the shower. He scrubbed soap through his hair, letting it soak through and drip off his shoulders. 

When he finished, he stepped out, scrubbing his hair viciously with a towel. He combed it out, making it look presentable. His glasses started to fog up, so he exited the bathroom, walking over to his closet. Humming softly, he dressed in slacks and a dark grey dress up shirt. He loosened the collar, revealing a few of the freckles that trailed down his sternum. He tugged on the shirt, straightening it. Doyle tousled his own hair, unhappy with it. He pushed his glasses up his nose in defeat, shrugging. Pocketing his phone and wallet, he headed for the bus station down the street.

 

///….///

 

Locus fussed with his tie, tugging on it. He straightened his suit jacket, sighing softly. He brushed back his hair, frowning as the long strands fell back into his face. With an indignant huff, he french braided the whole mess, snapping a hair tie around the loose end. Satisfied, he tucked some of the shorter strands behind his ears. Having already brushed his teeth, he tried to recall the rest of his to do list. He flushed lightly at he reminded himself to slip a condom or two into his wallet. Laurence had been staring at both him and Doyle quite lecherously last time they'd been in the same room. Locus took the time to pocket a small bottle of lube, doubtful that Laurence would remember to bring any. The condoms were packed carefully into the bill fold of his wallet, embarrassingly crinkly compared to the surrounding material.

Finally ready to leave, Locus picked up his keys from beside his front door. He scratched the chin of his long haired Persian, Orion, smiling as the feline purred happily. 

“I'll be back in a while.” He promised, leaving a quick peck on the cat’s head. It yowled after him, already upset at his departure.

 

///….///

 

Laurence downed his sandwich, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Glancing at the microwave clock, he grunted. It was time to get ready for his date. What was left of Alcatraz's absorbed brain matter was screaming at him that he needed to get laid. Which, by all means, he intended to do, just not at the pace Alcatraz wanted. Dinner first, maybe take his two dates for a walk. Seduce them, get them to make out. Something like that. None of this “wine ‘em, dine ‘em, sixty-nine ‘em” shit Alcatraz was gibbering about. 

“For the love of god, quiet down.” Laurence muttered. He got up, wandering over to his dresser. The one set of semi formal clothes he had were badly wrinkled, but he didn't really care that much. It wasn't like his clothes were going to be the focus of the evening. Doyle and Locus already knew what he looked like. And he didn't plan to spend much time clothed anyway. Laurence wrestled the clothing on, smoothing it briefly. When he deemed it was good enough, he threw on a leather jacket and began his walk to the restaurant.

///….///

 

Doyle was the first to arrive, and took his seat when the waiter escorted him to their table. He nervously tugged on the sleeves of his shirt, glancing around. He was a few minutes early. Doyle expected Locus to be on time, and Laurence to be a few minutes late. 

Of course, that was exactly what happened. Locus appeared in his sage green tie, sitting beside Doyle. The bespectacled man smiled up at the mercenary, trying to quiet the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Before their introduction to Laurence, the two men had been at odds fairly often. Locus had often become frustrated with Doyle's meek disposition, and the general was likewise not thrilled about how blunt Locus was.

“Doyle, you seem preoccupied.” Locus’ voice shook the general from his thoughts. The deep bass of it made a little bit of heat coil in his belly.

“My apologies.” Doyle cleared his throat. “It's just that I'm a little astounded by the change in our dynamic.” 

“Hmm.” The rumble in Locus’ throat made Doyle flush a little. He looked the long-haired man up and down, trying not to appear too blatant.

“Your hair looks nice like that.” Doyle finally commented, observing how the mercenary’s hair twisted round itself.

“Thank you.” Locus murmured his thanks before taking a sip of water. Doyle frowned. His attempts at hearing more of Locus’ unfiltered voice were being thwarted by the mercenary's penchant for two word answers. He tried again.

“How are you feeling about this? Nervous?” Doyle asked.

“Not really.”

Doyle huffed.

“How do you do that?” He complained.

“What?” Locus looked up at Doyle, startled.

“Give two word answers for everything.”

“Not sure.”

“You are, without a doubt, the most sarcastic individual I have ever met.” Doyle deadpanned. He took a drink of water, pointedly ignoring the smug look Locus held.

“Glad to see you two are already chatting it up.” Laurence dropped into the seat across from Locus and Doyle, immediately eating one of the breadsticks in the basket at their table. Doyle handed him a menu, sighing.

“Locus is being insufferable.” He complained.

“Oh, really?” Laurence asked.

“Am not.” Locus scoffed.

“He's only giving two word answers for everything. It's highly irritating.” Doyle pouted at Laurence.

“Locus, are you being a pain in the ass?” Laurence teased.

“No!” Locus looked at the incredulous stares his companions gave him. “I'm not.” He insisted. Doyle turned to Laurence, grinning to himself.

“Have you been listening to his voice?” He asked. Doyle looked up from the remaining breadsticks he was devouring.

“Yeah, it's a lot sexier without the helmet.” He commented. Locus flushed crimson. He huffed, looking away.

“Ooh, you're turning red. Are you a virgin, Locus?” Laurence pointed a breadstick at the other man.

“Stop it.” Locus snatched the breadstick from Laurence, eating it to distract himself.

“Oh, he is.” Laurence laughed. Doyle leaned close to Locus, taking the last bite of the breadstick.

“You know, your voice really is sexy, you should use it more often.” Doyle laughed at the withering glare he received.


End file.
